


Daylight

by milosdinosaur



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poor Charles, Thank god for Logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milosdinosaur/pseuds/milosdinosaur
Summary: "What do you want, Logan?" Charles attempts to sound hostile, but his voice trembles instead.Logan doesn't know either. But he knows that Charles is much more than the sum of his insecurities.
Relationships: Implied past Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Logan (X-Men)/Charles Xavier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 111
Collections: X-Men Rare Pairs 2020





	Daylight

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TurtleTotem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/pseuds/TurtleTotem) in the [xmenrarepairs20](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs20) collection. 



> **Prompt:** Logan comforts Charles after the disaster of Paris (XMDOFP), where Erik shot Charles's sister and they both disappeared on him again.

_It’s ironic_ , Charles thinks bitterly, that he would end up just like his mother, nursing his woes with alcohol.

Logan steps into his room without knocking. Charles looks up sharply from his bottle of whiskey.

“How did you find me?” Charles asks waspishly. What a sight he must make, sprawled across his bed and spectacularly drunk. He wants nothing more than to make Logan leave, but the stubborn man doesn’t even answer his question and looks him up and down instead. 

“You alright?”

“Fine.” His response comes out less curt than he’d hoped, punctured by the small display of concern. He doesn’t understand what Logan sees in him, what he could have done to inspire such blind loyalty.

“Now that your conscience is soothed, kindly get out.” 

“We’re not done yet, Charles.” Logan walks towards him, a feeble attempt at solidarity.

Charles laughs, a hollow thing. “When you came to us, I actually thought…” He can’t even finish the sentence. 

“It seems I have a special talent for driving people away.” 

The words prompt an ache in Logan’s chest. Charles’ eyes are desperately sad, his mouth tilted downwards. Logan takes his hand, rubbing his thumb gently across his knuckles. It’s a simple action, but Charles’ eyes shutter shut. He can’t remember the last time he sat with someone like this. 

“Okay?” Logan asks, carefully watching Charles for any indications of discomfort, any sign that he’s overstepping. 

Charles nods mutely. 

Logan wraps his arms around Charles, supporting him as he lies back against the pillows. Settled against Logan’s chest, Charles lets out a shaky breath.

“What do you want _,_ Logan?” Charles attempts to sound hostile, but his voice trembles instead. 

Logan doesn’t know either. 

“It’s over,” Charles whispers, his eyes downcast, “you can leave.”

Logan has never seen him like this. Crumpled into his seat for the entire flight back to Westchester, looking vacantly at the chess set crystallised in a game he never got to finish, heartbreak written plainly on his face. For as long as Logan’s known him, the Professor has always been a constant. A kingly figure - calm, collected and hopeful even when dealing with whatever shit Magneto inevitably stirred up again. 

But he isn’t the Professor, not yet. Logan isn’t quite sure what to make of this resentful, dejected man. But he knows that he’s much more than the sum of his insecurities. Logan wishes he could make him recognise that too. 

He’s young, younger than he was, still afflicted by Erik’s desertion and Raven’s flight. Logan is intimately familiar with the way loss can gnaw at you. It oozes out, slowly but surely drowning your resolve. Worse still, a second estrangement. Being helpless to stop it, like trying to cling on to water falling from your fingers. Logan knows about that too. 

“Hey,” Logan runs his thumb against Charles’ jawline, gently tilting his face upwards so he can look into his eyes, heart aching at the fragility in Charles’ expression. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here for but, as long as I am, you have me, alright?”

Logan nudges his face against Charles’ forehead, planting a kiss there. He trails adoring kisses along his nose, neck and finally, mouth. Logan goes slow, hoping to convey everything he doesn’t quite have the words for.

Charles’ eyes flutter shut, as if he were trying to shield himself from something. 

“I… appreciate it,” he says, voice rough-sounding with the emotion he holds back. 

Logan shrugs. “No need to thank me.” 

They’re silent for a few moments. Most people would have probably left it there, but Logan knows this man. Knows that right now, he’s incapable of believing Logan.

“Take a look if you don’t believe me.”

“What?” Charles’ eyes are open again, impossibly blue. Wide with disbelief. 

Logan takes Charle’s hands and presses two of his fingers against his temple. They’re trembling. 

Logan knows Charles is a good man. More than that, Logan trusts him. Would trust him with his life. Has, on several occasions. Problem is, it’s not Logan Charles doesn’t trust, it’s himself. Even now. 

“It’s alright, yeah? I trust you.” 

Just like that, his defences crack. Charles takes a deep breath and allows himself to fall. When Charles enters Logan’s mind, he still isn’t strong enough to go very far, so he only picks up on his surface thoughts. There is worry, yes, but beneath that Charles is cocooned by admiration, protectiveness and fierce devotion. One that was hard-won but, once earned, unconditionally given. 

“Logan,” Charles whispers. His name is a whispered prayer that ghosts across his lips. 

Charles surges forward, kissing him like a starving man. His fingers curl around Logan, almost as if he expects him to dissolve at any moment. It had been a while since Logan’d been with anyone else. He can’t stop his body from responding, but he wills himself to ignore it. 

Charles palms roughly at the bulge in his pants and Logan lets out a low groan. _Fuck_. 

“You sure?” Logan asks, out of courtesy more than anything else, because Charles can feel his desire - the almost palpable want to _fuck, mark_ and _have_ him in every way possible. 

It sets off something in Charles - his lips part and his pupils dilate. Charles squeezes his cock, and Logan growls, smelling the desire that’s coming off Charles in waves. 

“Hold still for me darlin',” Logan murmurs, reaching under his shirt and splaying his fingers across Charles’s nipples, which only seem to have become more sensitive after his paralysis. He’s gentle, so gentle - almost incompatible with his feral instincts. Charles, incapable of holding still, makes a small noise and arches his back as Logan begins to massage them in slow circles . He lets out a soft, restless whine. Since when was Logan so bloody patient? His nipples aren’t enough. He needs Logan’s _cock_ , needs to get Logan to press down on him just right -

Charles' eyes turn glassy as Logan’s fingers, slippery with lube, trace the rim of his ass. It makes him clench and thrust his hips backwards, trying to get more, but Logan’s fingers withdraw. Charles couldn’t stop himself from following him back, trying to retain what sensation he could. 

“So good for me,” Logan murmurs, low and intimate. 

Charle shudders and _keens_ as Logan slides his first finger into him. Logan starts with an unhurried pace, fingering him with one hand and undoing his belt with the other. It’s slow, making him ache with want. Logan’s fingers are probing, searching. Charles squirms, trying to take in as much of Logan as possible. Logan lets out a low noise and _oh_ he finds Charles’ prostate and rubs against it, making him see white. 

“Logan,” he whimpers.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Logan all but grunts in response.

Charles’s mind is fuzzy with want and he couldn’t care less. He sends out silent, impatient jabs to Logan’s mind as he rocks against Logan as best as he can, shameless with want. 

Finally, _finally,_ Logan sinks his cock into Charles. Charles lets out an involuntary moan, head falling back against the mattress. He kept a steady, smooth rhythm that soon had Charles thrusting back against him, letting out little noises.

_Bliss_. His mind is gone, a wet, hot, nothing filled with a single need. His body shudders, his hands scramble weakly at Logan’s back because he must hold on or surely he will drift away. Logan is whispering in his ear, but none of the words quite register, his head is much too slick to focus on anything. ( _I’ve got you, Charlie, I have you, mine, safe, you’re safe_ ).

Charles gasps and swallows as Logan keeps thrusting into him. It’s too much. Far too much, this intimacy — every part of his body is alight and his mouth slackens around uncontrollable whimpers and moans. Logan growls into the flesh of his throat and drives home one last time, and Charles feels his seed filling him, coating and slicking his insides, leaking out and trickling over the cleft of his ass. The feeling of his release drives Charles over the edge, and he stifles his cry, breathing heavily and burying his head in Logan’s chest. 

He collapses onto the bed, boneless and relaxed. Logan runs his fingers through Charles’ hair and presses a kiss to his forehead. He dozes off, and the next thing he feels is the bed dipping, and then there’s a warm, damp cloth running over his skin, cleaning off the sweat and fluids, and Charles is grateful for it.

He’s so worn-out it takes a while for Charles to register that Logan was cleaning his legs. Realisation dawns and he gestures miserably to his legs, “They’re losing sensation as we speak.” 

The indelible feeling triggers an onslaught of memories. Sand under his fingers. Piercing agony. Shreds of _Erik_ and _don’t go_ and Raven’s hand in his. A blue sky tinged by smoke. His face is wet. Logan kisses his shoulder, coaxing him away from the echoes of the past. 

Logan rests his chin on his shoulder and Charles allows himself to sink into the sanctuary that is his mind. It’s _wonderful_ , how Logan doesn’t bristle at having Charles in his head. Enveloped by Logan’s trust, acceptance and affection, Charles knows it’s different this time. Charles isn’t being cast aside. 

Logan is going to stay. 

Charles wishes he could freeze this moment. Or frame it. A little bit of warmth to savour. In a few hours, they’ll have to get out of bed and journey to Cerebro. Charles will have to face Raven and attempt to stop her. More often than not a fruitless task, his attempts at dissuading Raven from doing anything were largely unsuccessful, even before they went their separate ways. He doesn’t even know if this newfound serenity will last. But for now, he allows himself to indulge. Returns Logan’s tender kisses, trying to commit his reverent expression and gentle eyes to memory. Savouring the way his unwavering trust pulses rhythmically, letting Charles know he is cared for. He is loved. 

In a few hours, the sun rises: casting the mansion in crimson, bathing the abandoned rooms in a rosy glow.

**Author's Note:**

> I know XMA technically confirmed that Paris and Washington happened on two consecutive days but shhhhhh.
> 
> ~~If the actual screenwriters don't care about the timeline, why should I?~~


End file.
